


Skies of Honor

by Stegowrites



Category: Street Fighter
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-25 01:20:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22487689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stegowrites/pseuds/Stegowrites
Summary: A pair of internet celebrities on a plane pass the time by collaborating on their next big video project.
Relationships: G/Rashid
Comments: 5
Kudos: 11





	Skies of Honor

**Author's Note:**

> (First of all, I’m trying to upload this fic from mobile, so huge apologies in advance if the formatting is off!)
> 
> Been thinking about GRashid lately. The potential of their character dynamics really get me. On one side we have a weird old man who declared himself the president of the whole planet on social media, and on the other side is a weird young man who strikes me as kind of a memelord.
> 
> What if they combined their talents, is what I’m saying.
> 
> I’m also saying, what if they kissed.
> 
> And what if they... well, you’ll see!

G stood outside the airport with his lips curved into a slight frown as he brushed the dirt from his suit. It wasn’t that he regretted taking the time to accept the Earth-citizen’s challenge of a street fight (some would call it a “mugging,” but to the President of the World, it was all in good friendly rivalry), but if he hadn’t, maybe he’d have made his flight on time. He’d be a little late to the conference in Dubai, which wasn’t great form for a man of his status, but the riveting speech he had prepared would most likely make up for the tardiness.

As he removed the wrinkled flight ticket from his breast pocket and glanced over the now irrelevant information, he felt a sudden breeze ruffle the tail of his coat. The stream of wind went on for several seconds without letting up, scattering leaves and bits of litter across the pavement in a chatter of debris. The wind picked up with such speed, in fact, that he might have lost his oversized top hat, had he not been so quick to hold it in place. Despite the intensity, the gust was refreshingly cool, and carried with it the scent of coffee beans. ...Or maybe that was just the nearest possible sensory experience to the energy it possessed. A strong, unnatural wind, but nothing to be concerned about; it ceased about as suddenly as it had arrived.

“Hey! Mr. President! I thought that was you!”

G glanced around the parking lot for the source of the voice, before tilting his head up to meet the grinning expression of the young man perched atop a lamp post. He gave a hearty laugh at the realization and waved up at him.

“Ah, it’s you! That FooTuber fellow! ‘Rashid,’ was it? Good to see you again! How’s the hand?”

Rashid smiled down at him, and then up into the screen of his smartphone, adjusted at an angle to just barely include the entirety G’s tall figure in the background of his selfie.

“It’s fine, actually! Just uh... might have to hold off on shaking hands for a while. No disrespect or anything.”

“None taken,” G reassured, himself giving the cell phone camera a warm smile. Cameras of any kind seemed to bring his warmth to the surface. He just had that kind of charisma about him. There was being photogenic, and then there was... whatever G had.

Rashid snapped two more photos just to be sure he had a good shot, and then returned the device to its holster and descended from the lamp post to G’s side with a showy backflip. Had the self-proclaimed President not been so tall, Rashid might have put his arm around his shoulders in friendly greeting. He opted, instead, to give him a firm pat on the back (although the toughness of G’s back muscles renewed the soreness of Rashid’s hand, and he quickly withdrew it).

“Where you headed anyway, friend?” Rashid asked, standing on his toes to get a closer look at the ticket in G’s hand. He then proceeded to answer before the man could get a word in edgewise. “Dubai! It’s so lovely there... But, huh? That flight took off ten minutes ago!”

Whatever disappointment G had expressed outwardly, Rashid had a way of empathizing tenfold. He ran his fingers through his licorice black hair, tugging at the roots. His brow furrowed with concern. “I’m so sorry, man. Anything I can do to help you out?”

G placed his hand on Rashid’s shoulder. His touch was warm and comforting, as if a heated blanket were draped over him.

“I appreciate it, citizen, but it’s nothing to worry about! I have plenty of funds available to purchase a ticket for the next flight. I may be a little late to the conference, but—“

“What? You can’t be late to something important like that! Come on, let’s take my private plane.”

“Thank you so much for your generous offer, citizen Rashid, but I—“

“Mr. President,” Rashid said sincerely, taking him by the hand, “I insist.”

— 2 —

The interior of Rashid’s plane was spacious and clean, with enough open floor to accommodate the young man’s restlessness. It wasn’t nervous energy that had him pacing from one window to another, but  excitement .

“So you’ve got a speech to do, huh? More of those ‘uniting the people of Earth’ things?” his tone wasn’t intended to be sarcastic, despite his shift into a playful impression of G’s accent and cadence.

G nodded from where he sat, scrolling through a news feed on his mobile device. “The usual, I suppose.”

“Oh, hey, don’t get me wrong! I truly like hearing the way you deliver your speeches, you know? Don’t tell my FooTube followers I said this... but I’m a  huge fan of your content.”

“Ah, and I of yours!”

Rashid felt his cheeks heat up, blushing deeply at the comment. He didn’t normally let himself give in to compliments like this, but G was a real FooTube celebrity, and an all-around nice guy even without the Internet fame. His content making such an important person happy... there was something special about that.

“Yeah? You like my  _ Let’s Fight _ videos? I’m so glad to hear that, man! Which one’s your favorite?”

“Well...” G said thoughtfully, already having an answer but letting it linger on a dramatic pause, “I’m quite fond of the one we made together.”

Rashid cleared his throat to not get choked on his own words, but his reply still came out a little cracked. “Really? That video from when we first met?”

“Absolutely! The way you move, I can tell you really gave your all in that match. In fact, I believe we both brought out the best in each other during the fight. Wouldn’t you say, Rashid?”

“Y-Yeah, I would!”

Oh, he wasn’t just warm now. In fact, he felt  _ hot _ . He had to keep it together before he made an ass of himself in front of the damn President.

“Hey, can I get you something to drink? Some champagne , or...?”

“Oh, goodness no!” G laughed, “I’d best not consume any alcohol before addressing the People. I prefer other methods to calm my nerves. Thank you, though. Perhaps later.”

“Wait, hold on. You? Nervous? You always seem so at ease!”

G grinned. “Don’t be telling my secret to my subscribers, now!”

“Ha! I’d never. We really should collaborate more often, though. I think our followers would LOVE to see more  _ President G vs Rashid of the Turbulent Wind _ videos. And, like, they don’t even have to be  Let’s Fight vids if you want to try something different.”

G extended his long legs and gazed thoughtfully at the seemingly endless field of fluffy clouds drifting beyond the window.

“But what other kinds of videos are popular on the Internet in this day and age?” he pondered aloud.

“Ha,  _ porn _ .” 

As soon as he’d said it, regret sent an instant wave of full-body cringe over Rashid’s body that would have made for the perfect reaction image to just about any epic failure.

G, however, didn’t react at all, but simply maintained that same thoughtful expression while stroking the fine golden hairs of his beard.

“An interesting proposition,” he mused as Rashid began to sweat rather profusely.

“Haha, I mean... if you WANT to. I definitely couldn’t post it on my main account, but... Wait, you’re  _ serious _ _?!_ ”

G rose from his seat, ducking under the overhead luggage compartment (although his hair still brushed against it). “How much time until we land, you think?”

“Probably, like, an hour. But... you’re not suggesting we... right here...?”

“It WOULD help to relieve some of my pent-up tension, I believe...”

Well, Rashid wouldn’t be one to pass up such a golden opportunity.

— 3 —

“So uh... I hope this isn’t too personal, but...” 

Rashid sat on an assortment of matching pillows and lightweight blankets on the floor, already undressed and watching the process of G removing his own clothing—one article at a time, carefully folding and draping each layer over the back of his seat in a neat stack. So far, his upper body was exposed, revealing his broad torso covered in shimmering gold tattoos shaped like just about every land mass. 

“...are those real?”

G answered with a wink, “I  _ am _ the ‘President of the World,’ after all...”

“Fair enough. You got one for every continent, I assume...?”

As he was asking the question, G was unbuttoning his pants and sliding them down his legs, revealing more of his golden map. “Anywhere in particular you’re looking for?”

Rashid’s face flushed a deep maple. He bit his lip as he eyed this tall, muscular, glistening politician, FooTuber, ... _ whatever _ he was. With an impish smirk, he said, “I don’t suppose you have Antarctica on you?”

As it turned out, he did, and it was exactly where Rashid had expected to see it: spread across his hips and thighs, including, of course, the majority of his fully erect cock.

“Fair enough,” Rashid accepted.

G knelt on the floor beside him, slouched forward to reach his eye level. He brushed his golden hand across Rashid’s cheek and up into his messy curls of hair. Every touch sent sensations of pressure and heat over him, as if his fingers were lingering on his skin even as they moved to other parts of his body.

It was when his hand dipped between Rashid’s legs and wrapped around his cock that he stopped him.

“Woah wait wait hold on—“

“What’s the matter?” G asked with a look of profound confusion and concern.

“L-Look, friend, my hand is still recovering from our handshake a while back. I can’t have you  _ crushing anything else _ .”

G paused. The young man did have a point. His handshakes WERE a bit too enthusiastic at times (or so he was told).

“I trust you and all,” Rashid continued, “but just be gentle. Like... REALLY gentle. Like, ‘please-don’t-break-my-dick’ gentle.”

G gave him a disarming smile and a gentle kiss on the lips, filling his mouth with that same intimate heat. “Rashid, I assure you, you have nothing to worry about. I will treat your body with utmost care.”

As far as Rashid could tell, G was true to his word, caressing the length of his shaft in a way that was slow and smooth and not at all with bone-breaking pressure. The supernatural warmth from his hand sent a tingling sensation all the way to his balls and the downy pillow that supported him. It was impressive that G could still channel energy from the earth’s core when they were so many miles up in the sky. He was curious as to how that all worked, ever since the first time they sparred, but he was understandably too preoccupied to get into the subject now.

“How’s this?” G asked softly, “Am I hurting you?”

“N-No...” Rashid panted, “This is great...” 

He began to thrust up into G’s fist, becoming further aroused by the aesthetic contrast of his cock’s rich skin tone against the bright metallic shine of G’s hand.

As the pleasure increased, Rashid moaned and clung to G’s shoulders and back. He could feel G’s beard nuzzling into his neck, feel the movement of his other hand sliding down his back to grip tight around his ass.

When he stopped him again, it was only because he was about to cum. At least, he felt like he was. With all the heat and tingling, he pretty much felt like he was on the verge of orgasm the whole time.

“Shall we, then?” G whispered, breath heavy against his ear.

Rashid rolled onto his stomach and reached out to unplug his phone from its charger. He swept his hair aside and squinted at the vibrantly backlit screen.

“Yeah, looks like I’ve got plenty of battery life on here. We should be able t—  _ Ohh _ ...”

His voice trailed off into a whine at the feeling of G’s thick cock grinding against his ass, applying the slightest pressure to his backside. It was hot and tingling like his hand had been, but he could only imagine how it would feel once it slipped  inside . His own erection felt tight pinned between his body and the floor, but he paid the discomfort little mind as he located and opened the video recording app.

“Mmm, take it easy there... Save some of that for the video,  _ Mr. President .. _ .”

G took a moment to compose himself after hearing such a seductive tone from someone as gentle-natured as Rashid.

_Mr. President_...

“Don’t worry about that,” he assured, “I’m certain we’ll have  _ plenty _ of content for our little ‘collaboration...’”

— 4 —

The video begins with a close-up of Rashid’s face, his hair draped messily over his flushed skin. His lips part a little to let his tongue slide over them, leaving a trail of saliva at the corner of his mouth.

Panning down, there is a view of his chest as it rises and falls with each panting breath. Then, his abs, and the path of dark hair at his navel leading to his stiff cock. G’s hand runs up and down its length a few times, showing off its size and hardness, before placing a firm grip on Rashid’s hip and rolling him onto his front. His ass (lightly bruised from where G’s hand had squeezed it moments before) is prominently displayed, the shine of G’s gold cock slick with lube catching the light in a momentary glare. By the time the lighting resolves, Rashid is gasping at the sensation of G entering him. He moves slowly, gradually filling him with more of the golden shaft until it is entirely buried within him, and Rashid is whimpering with pleasure.

“F... Fuck me, Mr. President...” he pleads, almost inaudibly over the background hum of the airplane.

With his proximity to the mobile device’s microphone, G’s reply is much clearer.

“As you wish, _Your Highness_...”

There is a blur as the camera is handed off, held now in Rashid’s palm, tilted as if he were attempting to take another selfie. He gazes directly, longingly into the camera, his face half-nuzzled into a pillow that has partially emerged from its case. Behind him, G grips his raised ass with both hands and thrusts deeply, causing Rashid to buck and moan every time he penetrates at full length. G’s motions are rough but purposeful, somewhat theatric, his tattoos sparkling with each ripple of his muscles. He grunts with his thrusts, but not in a horny, feral way. His vocalizations carry the same energy and inflection as his political speeches, although here he uses very few words (mostly “ _ yes _ ” and “ _ beautiful _ ,” and at one point, “ _it’s_ _an honor to make love to you_ ”).

Rashid’s eyes roll back and close as G’s pace increases with a heavy slapping sound. He fucks him so hard that the camera trembles in his grip. All the while, Rashid is screaming into the pillows, begging for more.

“God yes,  _ please harder, Mr. President! _ ”

“Rashid of the Turbulent Wind, it is my great honor to give you the satisfaction that you so greatly crave,” G began, somewhat breathlessly, “not only as your President, but also as your lover. May our physical union represent the bond that all people share...”

Rashid laughs at the absurdity of this man giving a speech in the middle of intercourse, though the laugh unravels into a long groan when G leans over and wraps his arm beneath him, presumably jacking him off in time with his thrusts.

“What you feel inside you is the  _raw power_ of the Earth,  _ full _ and  _ unyielding _ in strength and passion. And you take it so  _ well _ , with such  _ eagerness _ ... Do you like it, Your Highness? Are you ready to feel my release filling you completely?”

“Yes, Mr. President!”

“Well then...” G’s composure breaks for a moment as he lets an especially undignified moan slip out, “prepare yourself—!” his proclamation ends with one final slam into Rashid’s ass.

“Ohhh god...” Rashid mewls, trembling, though G holds him tightly against his body through his volcanic eruption of an orgasm, “it feels so warm...”

“That’s it, take it all in, Your Highness...”

He then whispers something into Rashid’s ear before pulling out, his cock still hard but now coated in a thick ooze of cum that drips slowly from Rashid’s ass and down his shaky legs. He takes the phone back from Rashid and lays back on the blankets, legs separated to make room for his partner to mount him.

Rashid lowers easily onto G’s cock without hesitation. His hair and beard are an even more tangled mess than before, and the flush of deep red has filled his face and spread to his neck. Sweat falls over his chest in oily streaks, dripping over his hard nipples and onto G’s stomach. Rashid’s erection juts out in front of him, bouncing onto G’s hips. He doesn’t muffle his cries or try to hide his smile. He rides G with an enthusiasm unlike anything in his hundreds of  _ Let’s Fight _ videos.

His climax hits suddenly, and with a noisy squeal of a moan. His cum shoots out somewhere beyond the frame, continuing in a long, sticky stream across G’s chest and abs, sprinkling the continent patterns with globs of white. There is perhaps some turbulence at this time, for the camera shudders and blurs for several seconds as the video ends.

— 5 —

G reviewed the video several times in the process of getting dressed, saying nothing, but nodding and making multiple sounds of approval throughout.

“You feeling any less tense about giving your speech, now?” Rashid asked as he wiped a soft towel over his skin to clean off the pools of cum and sweat.

“Oh, absolutely,” G replied, “and yourself? Feeling satisfied with this?”

“A little sore,” Rashid confessed as he pulled on a shirt that hung loosely over his shoulders and hips, “but no regrets!”

“I’m so glad to hear that. Will you be staying in town long? I’d rather like to spend more time with you after the conference.”

“Oh yeah, I’d love to show you around! By the way... you know I’m not _actually_ royalty, right...? I mean, my family has money, and I guess I’ve got influence on social media, but...”

G let out a boisterous laugh. “A good joke, young man! As if I were to say I wasn’t the President!”

Rashid returned the chuckle, but awkwardly, as he wasn’t sure if G was kidding.  _ Such a strange man... _

“You sure you don’t want anything before you head out?” he asked, nodding toward the mini fridge.

G turned back from the door just then. “Actually, Rashid, there is one thing...” 

He approached him with long strides, stopping just inches from where Rashid stood. Another long pause, and then, he bent down and kissed him. A full, deep kiss this time, their mouths open enough for tongues to touch. Heavy sighs passed between them, their fingers touching ever so slightly...

Rashid noticed G reaching for something behind him.

“...Almost forgot my hat!”

Rashid shook his head with a smile as G turned and exited the plane to resume his usual business of greeting Earth’s citizens and pitching the idea of world peace.

A strange man, indeed.

But, who knows? If this video would be anywhere as popular as their fight video had been, perhaps they could make a series out of it. 

He couldn’t deny that was really enjoying this kind of collaboration.


End file.
